Step Ahead
by AwesomeSaucelv8
Summary: Modern!AU. Dyspraxia: a chronic neurological disorder that can affect planning of movements and co-ordination as a result of brain messages not being accurately transmitted to the body. Anna has never been quite normal. Neither has Elsa. Anna wants to change, while Elsa is scared of disappointment. Then, Elsa ends up helping Anna to speak, but perhaps Anna is the one helping her.
1. Heaven knows

**Hello hello and welcome to another Frozen fanfiction! Before you read ahead I would like to state that, despite the slow start, things could potentially pick up quickly and I cannot guarantee it will be completely trigger-free the whole way through. At this stage, though, the story is relatively low-key and ship-free. This could also change.**

**Anyways, enjoy, and remember that none of the characters are mine.**

* * *

Ordinary is Anna. Stuttering, loud, obnoxious, and speaks-before-she-can-think is she.

Anna is often taken for a fool. But she's no fool, and even Kristoff thinks so, and Kristoff is pretty emotionally dense for someone so sensitive. No, she's no fool, but words escape her far too many times to be normal and her tongue fumbles its way around syllables as she speaks. Her eyes look at words without reading, causing her to read and re-read passages over, forcing out short sharp words like a gatling gun which can't ever hit its target if it tries. And the tip of her tongue has never quite reached the roof of her mouth, so there is always air escaping and lisping like a grade-schooler snake.

Kristoff says her voice is lovely, when she speaks; Anna only wishes that her ramblings were comprehensible enough for everyone else to understand. Understand without thinking twice over it, or biting their lips in muffled laughter, or sighing whenever she was picked to read out to the class because _gods_, she was the worst person to have to suffer through a reading or two.

Anna can't help it, of course. She is, deep down, and also quite close to the surface, and basically all the way through, a bubbly, sociable, amiable and likeable girl. And so _energetic!_ She loves talking and talking but not particularly in front of anyone except for maybe Kristoff and sometimes her mum and mostly her little cousin Olaf, because he stutters too and it's only adorable when you're five.

When you're sixteen it's a little different. And a little _wrong_.

Don't get her wrong – Anna loves herself and life. She's not ever been bullied. It's nothing ever that serious. But there is enough there to clearly say she is not like everyone else and it is way too awfully clear that conformity equals happiness in a world where communication is everything. Anna can feel lost friendships and misunderstandings, just because she trips over a word by accident and it feels almost insincere, or perhaps she is trying too hard to just speak and let it flow that she sounds rehearsed and automated. So as likeable as she is, with this mindset, she is doomed to a life of vague detachment and almost-isolation where she hardly picks up the phone and instead prefers to text. She doesn't go out much because Kristoff doesn't go out much, and walking around town by yourself gets depressing far too easily.

On top of that, Anna is the least coordinated person to exist on this side of the globe, though it was possible she claimed that title for the other half, too. Sometimes she would be trying to walk in a straight line and trip over nothing or suddenly veer and hit into someone-

Her mouth opens a little, stutters, and she packs away whatever she was going to say before it tumbles out in a great gush of unfiltered and disorganised rubbish. She reaches out, so stuck in thought that she had caused another accident in the hallway again.

"I'm… sa-sorry…"

Of course, the girl has already moved on, and Anna is left standing there alone, not even with Kristoff because this year they've been separated for the first time. So she bends down to pick up her lost books, surprised at how far they seem to have gone, almost as if they flew out of her hands with the intent of causing the most amount of trouble possible.

"Here."

It's a voice, and one that Anna doesn't ever recall having heard before. Smooth, mature, pale with light blonde hair and probably a little bit taller than herself, and holding out a few of Anna's books which managed to escape her grasp. Wait. That is the person behind the voice. Not the voice itself. But the voice is very lovely, regardless. Not in a creepy way. Though, it could be taken as creepy considering Anna is just standing gawking, awkwardly, at this stranger who is, judging by the abundance of badges pinned to her lapel, her senior by at least a year.

"Are you alright?"

Anna has taken back her books before the stranger has even finished her question. There's a long, awkward pause, and every time Anna feels the need to say something, she figures it would be too late anyway and the blonde would just turn around and leave. She doesn't, and they stand together, fiddling the hems of their sleeves or their books in silence.

"Uh, I better go…" the stranger says at length, and it manages to reach Anna's cloudy mind and she nods, a bit too vigorously, perhaps, as she steps aside and watches the other girl's retreating back until she rounds a corner.

The fogginess that comes with waking early dissipates like mist in the sun soon after class starts. Anna doesn't talk to anyone, but she does wave, a little bit self-consciously, as always. At least someone waves back. That's a good sign. But, unfortunately, there is not a face in the room Anna knows by anything more than name. So she sits, alone, as she often does, just waiting for the day to go by again so she can get home and maybe watch some TV, maybe even do some homework.

It's like this every day. All day.

Anna sighs, because even socially-impaired Kristoff managed to find his own friends (Anna can never quite remember their names, though. Naveed? Merda?) and Anna's stuck in the stupidest class ever.

Professor Arrendale is Anna's first period teacher. He's nice enough, she supposes, though the way he looks down his pointed nose sharply, lips pursed as if he had just eaten a sour lemon, doesn't do anything to make her feel better. Particularly on a day like today.

He's getting them all to work now. Or rather, he was getting them all to work several minutes ago and Anna was too distracted by the doodles on her desk to worry about schoolwork, really.

Who needed school.

Wait, Anna regrets saying that, even in her head, because she actually kind of likes school. Literature is her favourite subject, after all. She likes to read about fantastic adventures and quirky characters, maybe because it makes her feel _normal_, and also maybe because she likes to write all her feelings onto a page. She tried drawing, once, but it turns out she's even worse than Kristoff, so she just sticks to writing.

However, she hadn't quite anticipated the sheer amount of essays literature students would be forced to write. She hates essays, mostly because they're all the same – repetitive and boring, just like every day of everyone's life ever.

She'd complain but then Prof would do that sour-lemon face and tell her to shut up without even moving his lips.

Oh, oops, she should really start. Thinking about essays makes her want to write one even less now. A few words scramble their way onto the blue lines. Anna wonders if it's even readable. Probably not.

She leans her head on her desk and looks out the singular window of the classroom, until someone's head blocks the view. Professor Arrendale doesn't seem to notice, or care.

She spends the rest of the lesson dreaming.

.

"Anna," Kristoff reprimands as they sit outside the old building. It's _their_ spot, and hell if anyone took the bench behind the arts block. They'd be dead, of course. "You should really start paying more attention in class."

"Says you." Anna spits out, though it's not malice but just her mouth trying not to stutter. "You didn't either."

Kristoff is silent now because it's impossible to win with Anna, and now they were both in so much trouble.

"… Library after school?"

After a moment, Anna nods. It's not like she had any better plans or anything.

There's a glimpse of familiar hair again – as if Anna could ever forget that platinum shade. The senior turns and Anna looks away before she think's Anna is a creep. Then Anna looks up, in case looking away made it worse, but the girl was already gone. Without even a second of eye contact.

"What's up?"

Anna doesn't answer. It's not that important. But somehow, it's not important.

There's something here that's capturing her attention, even if she doesn't know it yet.

.

Another week in, and Anna is still lethargic as ever. Lethargic is probably the wrong word. She's bouncy, sure, and Kristoff is a little disturbed at the amount of _words_ flying and stumbling out of her mouth at miles a minute, but she's lost determination, she's lost that _spark_ that made her so… so _Anna_.

He brings it up with Merida first, because Merida is in Anna's next class.

"D'you think Anna's been acting weird lately?" He asks, toeing his foot against the edge of the pavement. His impressive bulk towers over the smaller athlete, who looks up with something fierce and bold.

"Ah wooldnae ken," says that thick, Scottish accent. Kristoff strains to listen to it sometimes, but at least she doesn't timidly stutter like a certain other fiery red-head. "She's _yer_ friend, nae mine."

As she says this, Merida presses a stubby finger into Kristoff's chest, almost knocking him flat. God, this girl was a force to be reckoned with.

"Mebbe ye should talk tae 'er!" Says Merida, rather helpfully, and Kristoff resents even trying to ask at all. But Kristoff rubs his arm and averts his eyes to the ground because, because _because_, he knows Anna is too strong to accept his help unless she asks for it first. He learned that the hard way last time.

This better not be a repeat of last time.

.

Professor Arrendale is what normal people would call successful. He has a successful job as a teacher and lecturer on a variety of subjects, from literature to science. He has a wife, who works at a medical school and is also very successful, and together they have a beautiful, intelligent, perfect little girl.

If anyone said anything about her odd hair colour, the Professor had chosen never to hear it.

Today, Elsa came home a minute earlier than usual, and her father eyed her as she closed the door with infinite grace and majesty and calm and walked up the stairs without a sound and disappeared without a trace.

He has never been prouder of his daughter, he thinks, tears springing unbidden to his eyes.

Yes, never prouder…

* * *

**And that's a wrap! I know it seems a little snippety and hodge-podge at the moment, but what I have planned so far is supposed to eventually tie everything together, and it's actually rather complex when you think about it, though I'll try and write it straightforwardly.**

**That being said, sometimes I need a review to prod me along or give me ideas when I get stuck in a rut. So please, review, and this will probably not be updated until next fortnight, so there is plenty of time! Oh, and for those wondering, the title is the name of the Vietnamese "Let it Go". I thought it was cool and somewhat suits the story?**

**Out!**


	2. the lonely people

**I'm back and I even promised an update in two weeks more like two months amirite  
I am so sorry and look not even any plot just symbolism and foreshadowing wut**

**Also I don't own the characters blah blah and I know it's Arrendelle not Arrendale I can dream ok**

He was only a boy at the time. His voice was still an octave above everyone else's. He was slight. Save Anna, everyone used to think Kristoff Boogeyman was strange.

He liked to talk to animals and he still does that sometimes. He lives with his mothers and fathers who aren't actually mothers and fathers but uncles and aunts and grandparents and cousins. The last anyone ever saw of his true parents was before his memory would allow him to remember. So of course people are going to think he's a bit strange.

They thought Anna was strange, too. Maybe that's why she was so adamant about going to the same school as him – a sense a familiarity? A shared uniqueness? – not that it really mattered now, because Kristoff was always so much better at finding friends than Anna. Perhaps it was simply that Anna was so used to isolation for so long that now she's worse off.

Anna can still remember that day, though if she talked to Kristoff about it, no doubt would they disagree on certain facts. Who knows which friend is closer to the truth, but there are some things which haven't changed between them.

Kristoff was thirteen and a man, at least in spirit. He was teased a lot by the same group of kids. At the time, Anna was still being home-schooled so the only time she would hear about this was after school hours in the park down the road. They still go there, sometimes. And then, once, they started calling him right nasty things, things which might not bother them anymore but were detrimental at the time – things like "faggot" and "cock-sucker". It was weeks until Anna heard about it.

Needless to say, it was merely a day after that when they stopped.

When Anna was about 15 or so, (about a year ago, she reckons, not that she remembers the encounter all that well) Anna met a boy. Rather, more specifically, she met a _nice_ one. Not that Kristoff isn't nice, but he's a bit weird, and making a friend who was _normal_ was such a big deal for her.

Hans was about as normal as you could get – decent grades, good physique, a smooth tongue, and most of all, he

_never _

even once mentioned Anna's speech. Not once.

Naturally, then, Hans quickly ascended the ranks of Anna's acquaintances – daresay, he may have even become a friend.

Hans was a boy Anna had heard about before but had never really spoken to, despite having gone to the same school and even sharing some classes with him for years. It was pure chance that they happened to be early to class at the same time. The room was unlocked and it was pelting down with rain outside, causing the windows to fog up and a dreary yet somehow satisfying darkness settle across the desks. Shyly, Anna made eye contact with this boy for a moment, and he smiled back with the perfect amount of lip and teeth.

They talked for a good five minutes until class started, ignoring their classmates slowly seeping in through the door, all wet and downcast, and there they were, bright and crisp as if the sun was shining bright.

It was almost perfect.

Hans told her about his large family and she told him all about Kristoff's. He said he missed his dad and Anna confessed she did, too. They laughed about some things. Anna was normal for a moment.

Later, when she and Kristoff sat together at lunch, she told him about it.

"Anna," He said, scratching his ear awkwardly. "I mean, I know you like him and all, but…"

Those eyes of hers ruined his resolved and he sighed, shoulders drooping considerably as she won like always.

"Just be careful, okay?"

She was careful, because Anna is generally a very careful person.

Kristoff just watched her leave, bouncing a little, swaying a little, tripping a bit less.

"She shouldn't trust people so easily…"

Presently, Merida is standing by the microscopes, attempting and failing to get her mess of curls out of her eyes for a moment so she can see the damned thing. She curses when it fails miserably and decides it might be better off just giving up and copying the results from someone else for the time being. The stuttering alerts her first, something that sounded suspiciously like someone choking on a cat.

Anna, of course.

Blue eyes dart over for a second, to witness Anna being pushed aside from the microscope and some classmates, maybe it was Eric and maybe it was Charles, grumblingly fixing the slide after the apparent mishap.

"_She's always trouble_," They say, "_Her hands don't quite match her brain power_," they think, "_If she moved like she thought she'd be really useful_," their eyes speak volumes.

"_She's so unsynchronised."_

Is what Merida thinks. It's not anyone's fault – it never is, really, but…

"Come here." She says aloud, and the strawberry blond skitters over embarrassedly. Merida supposes she should talk to her acquaintance more than she does, she the words come flying out. Not rapidly, but steadily and unique. Anna starts to reply, face lighting up like the break of dawn, and Merida can see why this girl is friends with the bulky Kristoff. They are both pure and naïve and innocent yet they go through so much every day.

"Have yae been doing alright, lass?" Merida speaks up, at last, bubbling curiosity overflowing and breaking to the surface. That's the end of that.

Meanwhile, Anna ponders from where she is, in the space just outside reality where neither memories nor futures mean anything, pondering and wondering, with the feeling she has forgotten something important which she never knew.

"What a bitch."

"You don't go out with a guy like that – too many exes to even trust, am I right?"

"Like that Naveen guy?"

"I know, I know, teehee. I know he's handsome and all, but Tiana? Really?"

"They're both perfect for one another!"

The laughs of the popular group stumble behind Anna, matching her pace as she walks past. Kristoff would do something, she thinks. They'd just laugh.

And currently, Anna waits in bated anticipation for the moment which breaks or makes it – perhaps that should have been the other way round, but then again Anna never really_ was _the _right_ way round. The door opens, and Anna wonders briefly why it is the doors only ever open inwards as if to trap the inhabitants inside. Professor Arrendale steps out, tall, greying, power. If Anna were normal she would have caught her tongue.

"Good afternoon."

The voice is surprisingly familiar, and the way Professor looks down his nose at her is different now; full of something akin to tenderness and familiarity. Maybe he just hates teaching. If that is the case, why doesn't he quit?

"I've been monitoring your progress so far, Anna." He pauses, looks, as if to prompt an answer. "In Literature, in particular. You've shown… outstanding results thus far."

Anna doesn't believe him if for a moment. Outstanding? Her? She was completely ordinary.

"R-really… sir?"

"Hm." A sigh or a grunt of agreement? Anna can't tell, but he seems pleased with her contribution. "Yes. And, as such, I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to enter into this." He hands over a flyer, with her name already attached. "I've already signed you up."

It's an annual night for the Rotary Club. Two months' time. Writea speech of your choice, to be read out to an audience of several dozen men and women.

What?

"I dun…" But Anna's mouth moves too slowly, and Professor is already gone, into the gaping maw which now closes shut.

"I can't…"

**What is this I have no idea. But it was easier to write than I thought somehow so it shouldn't have taken so long I'm sorry.**

**A side note; over-analyse this story maybe then you'll get it haha it's super deep too deep for a fanfiction tbh.**


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